


Chapstick

by itspillowtime



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Best Friends, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Ichigo and Rukia are both idiots, Idiots in Love, Love Triangles, Romance, Rukia needs to buy her own chapstick, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, and maybe other things, hence the M rating, it's just foreshadowing for future mouth-to-mouth action, sorry in advance I'm bad at slow burns, we all just want them to fall in love already, you know this story isn't REALLY about chapstick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspillowtime/pseuds/itspillowtime
Summary: They're best friends, even if she does annoy the crap out of him, always leave a mess at his place, and steal his chapstick. He wondered what flavor hers was today.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia & Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

"Dammit, Rukia! Where'd you put my chapstick?"

The small tube was quickly flicked at him before its thrower returned to her languid position on the couch, draped across its length with her legs in the air, one arm resting securely under her chin while the other dangled off the cushions with a book in hand. He caught the small piece of plastic and frowned, noticing it was still warm in his palm. "...Were you holding onto it?"

Rukia shrugged without bothering to look up from her manga, violet eyes continuing to scan lazily over the pages. "I lost mine."

"Then go freaking buy a new one!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Ichigo gritted his teeth and resisted the strong urge to kick her off the couch.  _ His _ couch, he should mention, which she had all but merrily claimed as her own over the course of her frequent visits to his place. He'd barely moved in a month ago and already her shit was everywhere: her comics, her coats, her mugs— _ anything _ but her own damn chapstick, as she'd made an irritating habit of stealing his whenever she lost hers. Which tended to happen a lot.

He huffed through his nose and settled instead for swiping the book out of her hands, holding it above her head as she jerked and growled at him in annoyance. "Hey!"

Ichigo only glared down at her, watching as she scrambled to push herself up and stand upright on the seat cushions, swiping angrily at his hand but still falling short despite the extra boost from the couch. "Give it back, dummy!"

"Only if you stop 'borrowing' my chapstick and not giving it back. I keep having to buy them twice as often since you use so damn much!"

She ceased her jumping for a minute and crossed her arms as she remained standing on the couch, returning a stubborn glare. "It's not my fault my chapstick always goes missing. How do I know  _ you're _ not stealing  _ mine _ ?"

Ichigo let out an irritated growl. "The  _ last _ thing I'd ever steal is your dumb Chappy shit."

Yes, the only chapstick Rukia would buy was none other than the awful cartoon bunny's strawberries-and-toasted-marshmallow-flavored lip balm, ever-so-creatively branded "Chappystick." Never mind the terrible packaging, the flavor was so revoltingly sweet that Ichigo was fairly certain even an elementary school girl would blanch at the taste.

And how would he know? Because a certain dumb midget had "accidentally" grabbed his mint chapstick and left hers in his room instead one day.

As he had settled in for bed that night, he’d switched off the lamp on his nightstand before reaching for the small tube placed next to it, reflexively popping off the cap and giving it a practiced swipe across his lips without a second thought. He’d immediately gagged.

Sitting up and leaning over quickly to turn on the light, he was surprised to see the wretched rabbit's face smiling blandly up at him, though not surprised in the least considering who the culprit was. Grumbling as he got up, leaving the precious warmth of his bed to wipe  _ that crap _ off his mouth, Ichigo cursed the woman who by his luck happened to be both his best friend and the bane of his existence.

His lips had felt even drier that night after all the furious rubbing.

Now the little unrepentant demon was kicking his shin as she demanded her manga back.

"Ow, quit doing that! Here's your stupid comic!"

Rukia snatched the book out of his hand as soon as he lowered his arm. Satisfied with her victory, she flopped back down and began to make herself comfortable again, but just as she was about to find her page her phone lit up from its spot on the armrest. She glanced down at the screen and sat back up. "Shoot, I gotta go. I told Renji I'd meet him for dinner."

Ichigo dropped onto the other side of the couch, rubbing his sore shin. "You forget about your dates so often it's a wonder he hasn't dumped you yet," he muttered, quickly shutting up as he saw Rukia nastily eyeing his leg again.

She clapped her book shut and stood up, adjusting the front of her T-shirt as it had come untucked from her jumping up and down. "It's not a date, and we're not going out,” she corrected calmly. “We're just catching up on everything that's happened since he got back to Karakura."

Ichigo grunted. "Try telling him that."

Rukia ignored him and leaned over to pick her jacket up off the ground, shrugging into it. "The restaurant isn't that far so I won't be late. It's, what, four blocks away?"

"Pretty sure sooner or later he'll catch on," he said with a sigh, releasing his shin as he stood up as well to make his way over to the living room window, tugging the cream curtain to the side to peer out at the gray clouds veiling the sky. "It'll probably rain on your way back so take an umbrella with you."

"Okay, Dad."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and grabbed a small foldable umbrella off the coat rack by the front door, kicking his heels into his gray Vans as he waited for her to finish tying her own white Converse. Straightening up to accept and slide it into her bag along with her manga, she followed Ichigo out the door and down the hallway toward the apartment building’s elevators.

They stood in peaceful silence in front of the polished metal doors while they waited for the elevator to arrive, watching the numbers light up above the door as it neared his floor.

Suddenly, he was caught off guard as he felt her small body knock into his, nearly losing his balance as Rukia’s arms shot out to circle his waist from behind, lingering for barely half a second before they retreated back to her own sides.

"What—"

"Thanks for the umbrella!"

The doors rolled open with a small  _ ding _ and she stepped around him into the elevator, turning back to face him while smiling apologetically, "And sorry about your chapstick."

Before he had the chance to ask exactly why she was apologizing  _ now _ , of all times, the elevator dinged again and the silver doors rolled smoothly shut.

Ichigo stood there for several seconds, blinking at her afterimage on the other side of the doors, before turning to head back toward his apartment.

Freaking weirdo. Always pulling weird shit with no explanation. Not like she'd ever apologized for stealing his chapstick before, although honestly he was more than used to most of her inexplicable habits by now.

He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as it was chilly and he hadn't bothered to put on a jacket for the short walk to the elevator.

That's when his fingers closed solidly around nothing and he realized his chapstick was nowhere to be found.

He came to a stop in front of his door and groaned.

That woman was going to be the death of him.

* * *

_ “The simulation just went bad, but you’re the best I ever had—” _

Ichigo groaned and rolled into his pillow the minute the familiar melody pierced through the air, bringing the serene—at least til now—moment he'd been enjoying lazing in bed to its untimely demise.

_ “—like handprints in wet cement, she touched me, it’s permanent—” _

Using both hands to pull the sides tightly over his ears, he buried his face deeper into the pillow in an attempt to muffle the loud audio—his fingers twitching with the urge to chuck the offending device straight into his closet doors as it continued to ring—but eventually he sighed and rolled over, releasing his death grip on the poor pillow to press the small green "answer" button on the screen, before bringing it up to his ear.

That ungodly sound could only be the ringtone his pain in the ass of a best friend had lovingly assigned to herself on his phone years ago in college, where they'd met the week after midterms in their third year, when Keigo had tried to drag him out to the university's gymnasium, hoping to catch a glimpse of the women's volleyball club’s spring tryouts.

_ "Oy, Keigo. Knock it off!" _

_ Keigo only started pushing his uncooperative friend forward harder as they exited the campus cafe where they’d just finished eating lunch. "No can do, it’s starting soon! We gotta get front-row seats!" _

_ Ichigo scowled harder. "You have problems." _

_ His overenthusiastic friend stopped pushing for a moment to take a step back, pretending to weep dramatically. "At least I'm not soulless, like you! Meanie!" _

_ Ichigo decided to take advantage of the sobbing boy’s lapse in shoving, quickly sidestepping him to walk in the opposite direction back toward his apartment, lifting a hand in the air without looking back. "Gonna head back and study. Say hi to Tatsuki for me." _

_ "No need," came the voice of the very person in question from behind him. "Studying on a Friday night, really?" _

_ Ichigo turned around to see his oldest friend from childhood walking toward them, a bulging sports bag slung over each shoulder. "Yo, Tatsuki. Shouldn't you already be there as team captain?" _

_ Tatsuki shrugged nonchalantly. "I put Mahana in charge for warmups. It's fine." _

_ "Guess that makes sense. Wouldn't want to scare off the new recruits before they even joined." _

_ Tatsuki shot him a glare while sliding off the strap on her left shoulder and shoving the bag into his arms, causing him to stumble backward slightly. "Just shut up and help me carry these damn balls. You owe me for covering your ass last week when your dad came to visit." _

_ Ichigo gave a heavy sigh but complied, slinging the bag over his own shoulder and changing his route to join her to walk in a different direction toward the gymnasium. _

_ He  _ did _ owe her for that. Last week, he'd barely started reviewing his final set of notes before his metaphysics midterm when a loud banging on his front door had jolted him from his studies; not a second later, a booming voice through the wood announced the arrival of the older Kurosaki. "Ichigo, m'boy! Let me in! Come give your old man who came all the way to see you a hug. Unless you've got a nice young woman in there with you and you two are busy—" _

_ Ichigo gritted his teeth, strongly tempted to kick down the door and send said old man flying; his midterm was early in the morning, and he'd be damned if he ended up having to pull an all-nighter, simply because he'd had to spend the evening fielding his father's idiotic questions about any cute girls he'd met or if he'd lost his virginity yet— _

_ To his surprise, the pounding stopped abruptly and he could faintly hear the voice of his childhood friend, and hallmate, speaking. Though he couldn't quite make out what they were saying, he silently thanked his savior as a minute later he could hear his father's loud footsteps walking away from the door. _

_ "Still, did you have to tell him I was out on a date?" he sighed again, slightly annoyed but mostly thankful as he stepped in sync with the athletic spiky-haired girl. Keigo had magically disappeared when they'd turned back to check, most likely having sped ahead with the extra motivation of seeing girls stretching in spandex at Tatsuki's reminder about warmups. _

_ She shot him a sideways look as they rounded the corner of the main gym building, cocking an eyebrow. "Like any actual excuse would've made him leave? Worked, didn't it?" _

_ "True." He frowned, remembering the tens of nosy, horrifyingly triumphant-sounding voicemails he'd received daily over the next few days, but he did have to admit at least his grades had remained intact. Having reached their destination, he followed behind her as she opened the heavy doors and went inside. _

_ "All right, well, thanks for helping me carry these. Time to see what these pipsqueaks can do." Tatsuki took back the bulky bag as he offered it to her and gave him a quick salute before exiting the lobby toward the locker rooms. Returning the wave, Ichigo turned back toward the front doors, ready to get back to the sanctuary of his apartment and study in peace, when— _

_ A hand shot over his mouth in a counterproductive attempt to draw less attention, the other around his arm, tugging Ichigo toward a pair of doors down the hallway. Ichigo easily swatted the hand on his face away. "Keigo, the fuck—" _

_ "Shhhh, you're gonna scare away the chicks!" The brown-haired boy furtively pressed his index finger to his lips, eyes gleaming in uncontained excitement. "They're in here." _

_ Before Ichigo could retort that the women inside were more likely to run screaming when they saw Keigo's drooling face, the latter had eagerly cracked open one of the double doors to the gymnasium, only to find himself face to face with— _

_ "Come out now." _

_ The heavy tip of a wooden shinai pressed firmly against the juncture of his neck and jaw, making it difficult to swallow as he soon learned in an attempt to gulp. His eyes traced the sword's body down to its hilt, and back up the muscular arm grasping it, to look into the face of a tall, wild-looking boy with unruly red hair tied up, who looked incredibly pissed. _

_ Keigo was ready to drop to his knees and plead for his life when another voice rang through the air. _

_ "Renji, what is it?" _

_ Ichigo and Keigo looked up to see a short, slender girl with glossy black hair tied in a high ponytail walking toward them, a few messy bangs falling between her large eyes, gazing at them suspiciously as she approached. _

_ Renji growled, not taking his eyes or sword off Keigo's throat. "I think they're from Naruki. Probably came to spy on our practice before the match." _

_ Keigo held up both hands and waved frantically. "W-We go to Karakura! We just heard that there'd be g-girls here for volleyball tryouts—" _

_ In a single swift motion, the small girl moved her teammate aside, grabbing the stuttering boy by the collar to pull him inside the gym, and had him pinned to the wooden flooring beneath her sword menacingly. She narrowed her violet eyes down at him. "So you came to  _ peep _?" _

_ "I'll never do it again! Please don’t kill me!" Keigo sobbed hysterically. _

_ She hesitated for a moment before lifting her weapon and rising, though she continued to closely scrutinize the traumatized boy’s tear-streaked face, as he had started lightly foaming at the mouth. _

_ "Get out of here." _

_ "Yes ma'am, I'm so sorry, thank you so much!" Her former captive immediately leapt up to book it as fast as he could out of the gym's double doors, pushing past his abandoned and irritated friend without a second glance. _

_ There was a pregnant pause as the three students remained standing by the entryway. Ichigo scratched his head, unsure of what to say after that. "Sorry about that. Well, guess I'll be going too," was all he finally said, turning and starting to leave as well. _

_ Neither of the pair said anything or made any move to stop him, but as he walked away he could feel curious violet eyes following him down the hall. _

* * *

_ It was Monday morning, which meant it was time for his first lecture of the new term. He yawned loudly as he walked up the steps to the old brick building, having missed out on a good chunk of sleep over the weekend due to his traitorous jerk of a friend repeatedly calling him in the middle of the night to complain about what had happened on Friday. Ichigo didn't know whether to be more ticked off or impressed by his sheer level of idiocy sometimes. _

_ Once he had realized it was just another one of Keigo's unimportant, self-proclaimed "super super important" calls, he had listened groggily without really registering anything the brown-haired boy was saying as he wept loudly on the line about his near-death experience, without having even gotten to see any spandex. Though he did remember the abrupt switch in Keigo's tone as it suddenly became wistful and dreamy, praising the delicate beauty of the kendo girl while sighing that he wouldn't mind if she pinned him down again. _

_ Ichigo had hung up on him then and gone back to sleep. _

_ He tried to stifle another yawn as he walked through the large, open oak doors of the lecture hall. At least Shakespeare was a nice way to start the week—he'd been looking forward to this elective ever since entering university, and felt fairly confident he could stay awake through this period. Locating and starting to walk toward an empty desk in the middle of the room, he slid his messenger bag off and dropped it on the ground next to the seat, about to sink into it when he unexpectedly met the eyes of his seat neighbor. _

_ It was the girl from the kendo team. _

_ Whom he'd lost sleep over having to listen to a certain idiot wax poetic about for several hours. _

_ "You're one of the perverts," she stated simply. _

_ Ichigo scowled. "Don't lump me together with that guy." _

_ "Why were you with him?" she asked curiously. _

_ "I was forced." _

_ Before she could respond, their professor walked in, placing a tall stack of syllabi on the desk at the front of the room. _

_ "Good morning! Welcome to the new semester. All right, let's get started with attendance." She walked around the desk to the podium and readjusted her glasses, which had begun to slide off her nose as she looked down at the roster in her hand. As she began to read it off, he noticed, coincidentally, that she had called the kendo girl's name right before his—so her name was Rukia. _

_ "Great, all of you who showed up today get an A for attendance! Which is only ten percent of your final grades, so nothing to celebrate about. All right, without further ado, welcome to the best class at Karakura: Classical English Lit!" their professor announced jubilantly, capping her pen after she’d called the last student's name. _

_ The girl next to him blinked twice. "This isn't Classical Japanese Literature?" _

_ And that was how he'd met Rukia Kuchiki. _

...Whose lovely voice was now ringing in his ear a little too loudly, far too early in the morning for his liking.  _ "Are you up?" _

Ichigo groaned and fell back onto his pillow, clutching his phone slightly farther from his head. "I am now."

_ "Let's get brunch." _

Brunch at their usual weekend spot did sound nice, he supposed, compared to whatever he'd find in the empty pantry he still hadn't gotten around to fully stocking; his stomach grumbled softly at the thought and he sighed in acceptance. "What time?"

_ "Meet you there at ten. And don't forget to bring a jacket, it's windy,"  _ came his friend's voice, before she ended the call with a small beep.

_ Windy day, huh?  _ Well, the reminder was nice of her—

Ichigo glanced back at his empty nightstand, and groaned.

His lips felt so dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for stopping by to read the first chapter of Chapstick, inspired by KurosakiLove's Telephone. I really don't know where it's going, to be honest, but this chapter I wanted to share some of the backstory of how Ichigo and Rukia met before becoming as close with each other as they are now. More bickering and cute moments to come :)
> 
> Btw, I am a bit of a chapstick freak in real life and like to keep one on me and one on my desk at all times, though thankfully I don't lose them as much as Rukia. Cold, blustery days without chapstick are the worst, poor Ichigo haha.


	2. Chapter 2

Rukia flopped back onto her bed silently after ending the call, tossing her phone to the side as she sprawled out across her comforter.

To be honest, she'd been wide awake since about seven that morning, but had done her best to keep herself occupied for the past couple hours in an attempt to spare her friend who was no doubt still asleep. To pass the time, she'd tried reading, rewatching episodes of her favorite show, and even cleaning up her apartment, all with varying degrees of success; at least she'd managed to clean up the mess she'd made in the living room last night.

Rukia sighed and rolled over so she was face down in her pillow. No matter what she tried, she could never fully get the events of the previous night out of her mind.

She’d been looking forward to getting dinner with Renji last night. It was nice catching up with her friend and old teammate since he’d gotten back to Karakura; though he’d been one of her best friends since college, he’d moved away rather abruptly and only recently returned to the city where she and Ichigo had remained after graduation two years ago.

If she were being completely honest, his sudden departure and extended silence over the past couple years had been disappointing, and baffling—truthfully, she still wasn’t sure she understood the reason for either—but she was just happy to have her old friend back. She could set her questions aside for now, she’d decided, and just focus on enjoying his company and making him feel welcome.

Yesterday was already their third time meeting up since he'd arrived in town a few weeks ago, eager to see her again after having lost touch. So far, they’d mostly spent their meals filling each other in on work, family, and other shared topics.

She'd been glad to see he hadn't changed much; he still inhaled his food like a vacuum cleaner, got flustered whenever she commented on his hair, and acted like he didn't care about anything even when she knew he did. To be entirely honest, she’d found herself massively relieved after their first meeting when the conversation had flowed just as naturally as it did before, as she wasn’t sure if the distance might have cost them that.

Grateful it hadn’t, she found herself falling into the same comfortable banter they’d always had, indulging in the welcome familiarity. This time, she had probed him about any romantic escapades, and wasn’t surprised to hear a good number of women had expressed interest in him over the past couple years; however, he'd only scowled at her when she teased him about how popular he'd gotten since college.

"Cut that out," he grunted, catching her wiggling her eyebrows as him. "None of them were my type, anyway."

"But you're obviously  _ their _ type." Rukia raised her brows even higher to annoy him, lacing her fingers together and leaning forward to grin at him across the table. "My co-captain, all grown up, hmm?"

He flushed at her teasing. "Shut up, you know I had plenty of girls interested in college."

"Yeah, bet they all would've loved to call you 'Captain.’ You should've recruited them to the team."

"Fuck you," he growled and looked away, but didn't offer any other retort. She smirked at how red his face had gone.

She was in a good mood as they walked back toward her apartment after finishing dinner. They had left the restaurant about fifteen minutes earlier and it was drizzling slightly now, having calmed down a bit from the earlier downpour, and they both had their hoods up as they walked with their umbrellas folded under their arms. Just like the previous two times they'd met up, Renji had insisted on walking her back despite her protests that his new place was in the opposite direction, though she hadn't pushed too hard before accepting defeat, knowing he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"You know, you don't have to keep walking me back like you used to after practice," she said as they neared her apartment, the well-lit entrance to her building coming into view around the corner.

"Whatever." He gave a quick, bored shrug. "It's no big deal."

"Maybe not, but every time seems a bit like overkill," she joked.

She noticed his eyes flicker to hers briefly, almost looking annoyed. "Yeah, well I stopped walking you back our third year." He dropped his gaze and turned his attention back toward the building in front of them. "After you started dating Kaien."

Rukia grunted at the mention of her ex, who had also been their kendo captain when they’d first joined the team as freshmen. "Fine, but don't expect you can keep doing this forever. Pretty sure once you get a new girlfriend she won't like it."

He was quiet when they finally reached the entrance of her apartment, him trailing behind her slightly as she climbed the few steps leading to the lobby. She had expected some kind of retort to her teasing and was a bit surprised when the only thing she heard in response was the light pitter-patter of rain on the awning overhead. She raised an eyebrow and turned to look back, wondering if he’d heard her. "Ren—?"

Then she felt his fingers wrap around hers.

Caught off guard, she instinctively withdrew her hand from his, looking up at him, stunned. "Wha—"

He wasn't looking at her, but was instead staring intently past the clear glass of the lobby doors, seemingly focused on the elevators at the end of the hallway. His hands had immediately shoved themselves into his pockets the moment she'd removed hers, but she could see how tensely they were fisted from the visible outline of his knuckles. His jaw was set firmly as he remained unresponsive.

Rukia's mind was in a panic. What had just happened? She felt the need to say something,  _ anything _ —to apologize to him or something, though for what she didn't know. All she knew was that half an hour ago they'd been having a great time catching up over dinner, and now they were about to part ways and he refused to look at her.

Before she got a chance to speak, he abruptly let out a hoarse laugh as if she’d said something funny, though her ears picked up on how forced it sounded. "Don't worry about it, thanks for coming out again. I'll see ya later." With that, he descended the steps and was walking away quickly in the direction from which they'd come without a backward glance; he had turned the corner and was already out of her line of sight before she'd even had a chance to process anything that just happened.

She remained standing outside her lobby for a minute in dumbfounded silence. Finding herself alone with her thoughts now, but which were far too jumbled to make any sense of, she slowly turned back to face the keypad and punched in her entry code robotically.

Her feet unthinkingly carried her forward into the bright hallway and then all the way up the elevator to her floor; she was standing right outside her own door by the time she realized she'd arrived. Heading straight to her refrigerator once inside, she shoved aside some milk and eggs to locate a pack of unopened beers Ichigo had brought over for their last movie night. It wasn't her drink of choice—"I'm keeping them here for myself," he had told her as if it were obvious—but she sure as hell needed something in her system right now. Grabbing the entire pack and letting the door swing shut with a cold rush of air, she made her way into the living room and flipped on the TV, sinking into the couch as she cracked open a can.

As she kept her eyes glued to the screen, mindlessly tossing back the bitter drink, the look on Renji’'s face right before he'd left drifted to the front of her mind. She couldn't quell the sinking feeling in her gut that told her something about their friendship had changed irrevocably, and would never be quite the same.

She tried distractedly to rack her memory for any hints that might've let her see this coming, but kept coming up blank.

Had it all actually been this sudden, or was she really just that oblivious?

Ichigo's sarcastic voice floated into her mind as she recalled his words from earlier, before she’d left his place to meet Renji.

_ "You forget about your dates so often it's a wonder he hasn't dumped you yet." _

Rukia groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. So it really had been just her who hadn't noticed anything, like a complete idiot. But no matter how hard she tried, it was difficult to wrap her head around the idea that Renji would start liking her out of the blue after a couple years apart, and half a decade of being good friends. It just didn't make sense.

Unless...

She quickly pushed aside the uncomfortable thought in favor of another gulp of beer. There was no way he'd been interested in her during the time they'd been apart, seeing as he'd hardly bothered to keep in touch, only sending her a simple "happy birthday" text the first year he was gone. And she didn't want to even think about the possibility of him liking her while they were still in college.

Not when they'd met on the first day of kendo tryouts as freshman. Or when they'd become co-captains in their third year, leading practices and training together almost daily. And not when she and Kaien had started seeing each other after he'd graduated and asked her out...

It wasn't until she tilted back her can and nothing but air hit her lips that she realized she'd already finished half the pack of beers. She absently recalled Ichigo teasing her for being such a lightweight, feeling extra sluggish, and grimaced as the colors on the TV screen swam nauseatingly in front of her.

The overwhelming urge to close her eyes ultimately won, and she carelessly dropped the empty can onto the coffee table next to the others, just barely remembering to switch off the TV before knocking out.

Of course, she'd woken up several hours later to a splitting headache while sprawled across the couch in her still-damp clothes, her neck sore and hair a tangled mess. Her living room was pitch black, save for a sliver of light coming from the balcony. Groggily fumbling around the coffee table for her phone, cursing as she knocked over a couple empty cans, she finally located it perched precariously close to the edge of the table and picked it up, eyes narrowing in the dark at the bright screen as it lit up with the time.

2:05 in the fucking morning.

She groaned and dropped her phone face down onto the carpet, rolling away from the edge of the couch to bury her face in the cushions. Why the hell had she drank so much by herself last night? Alcohol always made her drowsy and caused her to fall asleep quickly but it also gave her killer hangovers, which is why she typically opted not to drink at all.

_ Nothing a hot shower couldn't fix, _ she decided, slowly sitting up with a sigh as she began to strip her wet clothes off on the couch. Just as she was pulling her T-shirt over her head, the memory of Renji's hand around hers came back and she froze, remembering what had induced her idiotic drinking binge to begin with.

Fuck.

Definitely a long shower.

Upon entering her bathroom, the rest of her clothes scattered around the hallway where she'd tossed them haphazardly on the way over, she waited for the water to heat up to the right temperature before slipping in. She savored the warmth of the tiny droplets raining against her skin as they distracted her from her pounding head, though less successfully from her jumbled thoughts. Feeling the steam rise around her as she stood motionless in the center of the shower, allowing the hot water to run down her body and turn her skin bright pink, she thought about the implications of what had happened after dinner.

_ Were things going to be awkward between them now? _

_ Wait—or maybe, there was a chance it had all been a misunderstanding? _

To her disappointment, the small, hopeful voice in her head faded as quickly as it'd come, leaving only the truth she was desperately trying to pretend wasn’t there.

_ How long had he...? _

_...How badly had she messed things up? _

To be honest, about a year into his absence she’d finally started to accept the possibility of never seeing him again, and certainly never being as close again as they once were. She’d prepared herself for the worst and was shocked to hear he’d returned, and even more surprised when he’d reached out to her to see her. Though she’d found it easy to fall back into their old patterns on the surface, truthfully a part of her still felt on edge, as if one wrong move might cause him to vanish again.

As curious as she was still to learn the reason for his absence, she’d been hoping to spend more time with him and catch up a few more times before broaching the subject.

But now, it seemed as if even that possibility may have faded...

Her entire body felt exhausted all of a sudden. It was driving her crazy that it all didn't seem to go anywhere no matter how much she thought about it. And the lack of sound from passing cars outside reminded her that it was two in the morning on a Sunday, when she'd normally be happily asleep, well into her bedtime so she could wake up early to catch reruns of  _ Soul Candy Friends _ .

Instead, she was mentally slamming her head against a wall that wouldn't budge, while simultaneously trying to ignore the pleasant aftereffects of her little drinking spree.

Rukia may not have been the most organized person, but irresponsible she was not. And right now she was being damned irresponsible, just short of blacking out and puking all over herself. Irresponsible enough that Ichigo would be scolding her if he were here right now.

She laughed humorlessly to herself at the mental image, but finally opted to concede defeat to her fatigue. Screw all of this. She was going to stop thinking about the current source of her stress and try her best to get some proper sleep before morning. She should get brunch with Ichigo, she decided; whether she’d feel up to talking about it tomorrow or not, her dumb best friend had a talent for taking her mind off things when she needed it, which she greatly appreciated at times like these.

With that last comforting thought in mind, she turned off the water and stumbled out of the shower, wrapping her towel around herself and flipping off the lights as she made her way out of the bathroom, before falling into her soft bed and promptly drifting off.

When she reawoke later that morning she found her head thankfully slightly clearer, along with a strong craving for  _ something _ in specific; she cycled through about a dozen foods mentally before landing on the dangerously delicious breakfast menu from her and Ichigo's favorite spot.

Perfect _. _ Didn't he once tell her eggs were good hangover food?

After a glance toward the clock indicated that it was still only seven in the morning, she decided to be benevolent and let her friend sleep in a bit longer. Amazingly, she somehow managed to keep herself occupied until nine, picking up the wet clothes and empty beer cans strewn around her apartment while Chappy and Yuki babbled, blissfully unaware, on the TV screen. Unable to wait much longer, she finally grabbed her phone and tapped on Ichigo's name from her call history.

_ "...What do you want, midget?"  _ His voice sounded bleary, and she could tell he’d just woken up. She tried to shake off a twinge of guilt. "Are you up?"

_ "I am now," _ came his grumble, but he didn't sound very angry, which made her feel slightly more at ease.

"Let's get brunch!"

The line was silent for a moment as he considered it, and she heard him curse lightly away from his phone as his stomach growled audibly.  _ "Fine. What time?" _

She smiled in relief, already feeling better than she had several minutes ago. "I'll meet you there at ten." She glanced out the window to see the leaves on the tree outside swaying violently and added before hanging up, "Don't forget to bring a jacket, it's windy."

Which reminded her—she still had the umbrella he'd lent her. As well as the chapstick he hadn't. She smirked, remembering his confusion from the previous night, and promised herself she'd make it up to him as she swung her legs off her bed to start getting ready.

Having gotten dressed earlier when she'd woken up, she figured she'd might as well head over now to snag a table, as it tended to get pretty crowded on Sunday mornings. Getting herself out of her apartment and around people would probably help ease her restlessness anyway.

Throwing a loose denim jacket on over her hoodie, she grabbed her phone and keys off the counter as well as the umbrella she'd left by the entrance, and made her way out the door.

As she'd predicted, the cafe was already fairly packed by the time she arrived. She looked around the small seating area, where some patrons were reading books over steaming mugs of coffee while others talked quietly with friends. The early-morning breakfast crowd had just started to clear out, and she made it in just in time as the corner seat by the window was vacated by an elderly man picking up his empty cup to return it to the counter.

Glancing around to see if anyone else was waiting for a table, Rukia judged that it was okay to place Ichigo's umbrella on the seat against the wall as she seemed just to have made it during a lull in the rush. Making her way over to the counter to order, she noted from the clock on the wall behind the register that she still had about thirty minutes to herself before Ichigo arrived.

The young cashier smiled at her warmly. "Good to see you again!"

She smiled back at the familiar face. "Oh, well you know I could never stay away from here for too long."

Since there was no line she took her time, chatting with him from across the bar while he prepared her drink. That was another reason this was her favorite spot; she was grateful to have a barista who recognized her and was thoughtful enough to remember her orders, and she wasn't surprised at all that the cafe had attracted a decent following of regulars since she had first started coming here in college.

"Your usual," the friendly barista said once her drink was ready, sliding it to her across the counter. "Careful, it's hot."

She accepted it from him appreciatively, feeling cozy and relaxed from the warmth that spread through her fingers as soon as she touched the mug. After thanking him and letting him know she'd order for her friend a bit later as well, she returned to her table. Sliding into the seat where she'd placed Ichigo's umbrella, she let out a content breath and allowed herself to savor the sweet aroma of her hot chocolate as it rose from her cup.

As she glanced out the window to her left, a twinge of anxiety returned to her gut as she caught a glimpse of red hair among the passersby. Blinking away quickly, she shook her head slightly and returned her gaze to the mug in front of her, resolving to do her best to focus on her best friend when he arrived.


	3. Chapter 3

The cheery tinkle of a chime rang through the cold air as he pushed his way through the door, the delicious aroma of espresso and warm pastries wafting into the street the moment it opened.

Shivering, he stepped into the small cafe, making a beeline straight for the corner table by the window, catching sight of his petite friend perched in their regular spot with two steaming mugs in front of her.

Rukia looked up from her phone screen to see him making his way toward her, her voice bright with more energy than usual. "Good morning!"

"It's so damn cold outside." Ichigo pulled out the seat opposite her, sliding into it as he took off his navy bomber jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. "How much sugar have you had already?"

"At least it's warm in here," she replied unconcernedly, ignoring his jab while taking a sip from her half-finished hot chocolate. She pushed the other cup across the table toward him. "Your usual.”

"Thanks." He accepted it gratefully, bringing it to his lips and savoring the smooth, dark flavor of the Americano that had been his college-lifeline-turned-favorite, thanks to no shortage of late-night midterm papers.

They enjoyed their drinks in silence, watching the steam from their mugs curl in the air and as people rushed past the window outside, hurrying to escape the cold. A light bossa nova played over the cafe speakers, soft guitar and piano greeting new customers as they entered.

Ichigo set his drink down, cradling the smooth porcelain as he relished the warmth spreading into his chilled fingers. Across from him, Rukia had already polished hers off and he could tell she was debating whether or not to get another. _As if the little demon needed any more sugar._

He watched in amusement as her eyebrows were slightly knit together in thought, considering her options. He rested his elbows on the polished wood of the table, leaning in toward her.

"You know, too much sugar is supposed to stunt your growth. You sure you can afford that?"

Rukia's eyebrows screwed together even more deeply as she immediately looked up to glare at him. "Are _you_ sure this coffee's not making you even more of an asshole?"

He smirked at her irritation, simply moving to lean back in his seat and watch her fume. If there was one way to get on his best friend's nerves, it was to make fun of her height, which also happened to make it one of his favorite things to do. He loved watching the tiny woman fume, shooting poisonous daggers with her eyes that would have sent a more faint-hearted man cowering, but the effect of which was lost on him as she barely came up to his chest.

Bringing his cup back to his lips, he tilted his head back to down the rest of his Americano before standing up from their table. "Thanks for grabbing the drinks, I'll go order for us."

"Okay," she replied, dropping her previous ire with a sigh as she turned back to look outside the window.

Stepping around the other tables seated with their fellow customers, he made his way over to the register, greeting the friendly employee behind the counter as he gave them their order.

A simple grilled ham and Swiss panini for him, and creamy egg salad with cucumber sandwiched between two warm, buttery soft croissant halves for her. Ichigo could usually tell what she wanted before she did just by her expression, which was truly a blessing considering how long she always took to decide. How long she took to do everything, really—the woman ordered slowly, ate slowly, got ready slowly—the only exception was how damn quickly she always walked, as if she were on her way to an engagement of the utmost importance and urgency, when in reality they were just taking a stroll through the park. It was pretty impressive really, considering how short her legs were.

Ichigo thanked the cashier as he paid for their food and made his way back to their table with cups in hand, taking a sip of water as he slid another hot mug of her sweet obsession toward her. Slipping back into his seat, he smirked as her face lit up in childish excitement. "Aw, you're the _best_!"

He chuckled at her mood change—so easy to please—watching as she eagerly inhaled the chocolatey aroma. “So I’m wide open the rest of the day, anything you wanna do after we eat?”

She shook her head with the cup still in her mouth. “Not really,” she replied, licking the whipped cream off her lips after setting it back down. “Can we just do something chill today, like hanging out at your place?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Something ‘chill?’ I guess we end up doing that a lot but I don’t think I’ve heard you ask for it before,” he said, and noted the way she sighed in resignation. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” she asserted, “except I may or may not be a bit hungover.”

His eyebrows shot even higher. “Is that why you’re chugging hot chocolate like your life depends on it?”

“I got here earlier and didn’t want to sit down without ordering,” she grumbled, “and it’s delicious, so leave me alone.”

“There’s _no_ way you were drinking on your own,” he continued. “Did you guys stay out pretty late drinking?”

To his surprise she froze briefly, seeming to be contemplating something internally as if she were debating how best to respond to his question, and the way her thumbs began to rub nervously along the rim of her cup didn’t escape his notice. "Spit it out, midget."

Rukia just bit her lip, her hands abandoning her mug to start playing with the corners of a napkin on the table instead.

Okay, that was weird; she wasn't even scowling at him for making fun of her height. He watched her face expectantly until she finally spoke, sounding forcedly casual as she continued to keep her eyes trained on the napkin in front of her. "It was fine. Dinner was fine!"

"Not what I asked. Plus, the way you're mangling that napkin doesn't seem like it was fine," he replied. She started to chew her lip more intently, and he sighed. "C'mon, Rukia. What's up?"

"Nothing, nothing happened,” she responded quickly. “It...it was good catching up." He continued to watch her face, patiently waiting to let her finish as she began to repeatedly fold the napkin in on itself. When she didn’t, he sighed again and brought a hand over hers to still her fidgeting. “Forget it, you don’t have to talk about it right now. Just whenever you feel up to it.”

She looked up at him then—her face still unreadable, but at least it was a start—and his hand squeezed hers gently. He felt her further relax beneath his grip, a few seconds passing before she finally spoke. "I think you were right."

"About what?"

"About...it being a date," she said, quickly giving up after she tried to make it come out nonchalantly and failed. "Not that it was a date, I mean. But I think he does want to be more than friends." Her eyes darted to his briefly before flicking back to the window.

Ichigo was speechless for a moment. Not that he was at all surprised that Renji liked her—it was hardly lost on him of how overly protective of her that red-headed idiot had been for as long as he'd known them—but as much as he enjoyed making fun of her about it, he was genuinely surprised to hear that Renji had actually made a move after so many years.

He had mostly found it amusing back when they were in college, the way the man would move a bit closer to her whenever another guy was around, or the way he'd avert his gaze in an attempt to be inconspicuous whenever Ichigo caught him staring at her. Rukia could call him an idiot all she wanted, but at least he wasn’t oblivious to her old friend’s feelings for her like she’d been this whole time.

"Oh," was all he ended up saying. His throat felt funny for some odd reason; maybe he needed some water. He brought his glass to his lips and took a sip. "What’d he say?"

Rukia had resumed her treatment of the poor napkin as soon as he’d let go of her hand, and it was nothing more than a sad, crumpled ball in her hands now. "He didn't say anything, actually." She paused. "He, um...tried to hold my hand."

* * *

For the life of her, Rukia could not tell what her best friend was thinking.

When he’d told her she could take her time talking about it, the rush of tension that had left her body at his reassurance had triggered a swell of appreciation for her friend, grateful that he trusted her to come to him when she was ready instead of pressuring her. Although ironically, in counter to his suggestion, it had only made her feel more comfortable about opening up to him about what had happened last night, and she decided after a minute to tell him.

But she’d be lying now if she said his reaction wasn’t making her a little nervous. Normally she could read his face as easily as she could sing the _Chappy_ theme song word for word off the top of her head; however, she had to admit she was stumped this time and it was throwing her off.

Ichigo did seem a bit surprised, but who could blame him; she still hadn’t wrapped her own head around it a day later. He hadn’t responded right away when she’d told him about Renji’s attempt to hold her hand, though she’d felt sorry that it had caused him to choke slightly on his water.

“Oh,” was all he said again once he’d cleared his throat, taking another sip from his glass.

A couple moments of uncertain silence continued, before they was interrupted by their server arriving with their food. Grateful for an opportunity to occupy her hands and mouth, Rukia thanked the server and began to dig into her sandwich, sneaking a glance at her friend's face to see if he’d come to any conclusions; however, his expression seemed fairly neutral as he picked up his food, and she quickly looked back down at her plate.

"What do you think I should do?" she asked quietly after a few bites.

Ichigo's focus was on his panini, his voice equally impartial as he replied. "I mean, do you like him?"

Her cheeks reddened slightly at his question as her gaze remained on the food in her hands. "I dunno, I've just never thought of him that way." She took a nervous bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly as her mind buzzed with unwelcome reminders of how her interaction with Renji had made her feel last night. “That’s the other thing, he never actually told me he liked me. So maybe—”

"He likes you," Ichigo cut in dryly.

“—But still, he never said it, so I can’t exactly just respond like it was a confession, can I?”

He looked up from his food to look her in the eyes then. “Rukia—the guy’s liked you ever since college, I can tell. He might not have had the guts to tell you flat out, but it’s probably because he was nervous as hell.”

She thought about that for a minute, before dropping her sandwich back onto her plate, shoulders sagging in defeat. “So what happens now?”

He paused to think for a moment, and she was grateful to see that whatever had been tying his tongue earlier seemed to have passed, and he seemed to be back to his usual mood. “I guess sometimes relationships don’t always start with both people liking each other equally. Could you see yourself dating him?”

He brought up a good point— _could_ she? The memory of Renji’s hand on hers came back, and she tried hard to think about whether her initial reaction to pull away had been out of repulsion or surprise.

She’d definitely been surprised; seven years of friendship together in high school and then college, followed by a couple years of radio silence, didn’t exactly prepare her for a sudden confession. She’d removed her hand from his out of pure shock, and without the chance to explain herself afterward she regretted that it must’ve hurt his feelings badly.

No, Renji didn’t disgust her...she enjoyed his company and cherished their relationship, even if she’d never looked at him through a romantic lens before. And she doubted she could’ve stayed friends with him for so long if she truly found him unattractive—what was that quote about men and women from that _Harry and Sally_ movie she and Ichigo had watched again?

“I guess...I could see myself trying it out,” she said slowly, the words feeling odd in her mouth even as she spoke them. She reached for her hot chocolate, as if the sugar would help ease her nervousness. “Though it’d probably take some getting used to.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Ichigo snorted while picking up his panini, and she chuckled, feeling herself relax fully for the first time since the previous night. Brunch with him had been a good decision—it was exactly what she’d needed after all.

“So what do I do now?” she asked, raising her own sandwich to her lips.

Ichigo answered mid-bite, his mouth full of bread and cheese. “You tell him, dumbass.”

“Swallow before you answer, fool.” She rolled her eyes at his laxness in front of her. “And yes, but _how?_ ”

Ichigo made a sarcastic show of chewing and swallowing before replying. “Don’t worry, he’s probably gonna piss himself in excitement just that even you’re giving him a chance. I don’t think he’ll give a shit how you bring it up.” She reached across the table to smack him lightly, but was unable to keep the smile off her own face. “Don’t talk about him like that!”

“Sorry,” he amended, “I guess I should lay off now that you’re gonna be dating, huh?”

She stuck her lower lip out at him, pretending she was pouting at a small child as her voice raised an octave, “Aw, is someone sad they won’t be able to hog all my attention anymore?”

He rolled his eyes at her poor acting. “In your dreams, midget.”

She smirked at his irritation, but only briefly; she really was thankful to have him as a friend, even if she didn’t say it out loud much. “Anyway, thanks, Ichigo. I knew there was a reason I liked having you around.”

“You mean other than being your personal food and skincare dispenser?”

She almost reached over to whack him again, but then remembered something else she had to thank him for. Picking the object resting on the seat beside her up and taking out another from the pocket of her jacket, she slid both items to him across the table, flashing him her sweetest smile. “Thanks for these too, by the way. They were a lifesaver last night.”

He gave her a deadpan look, accepting them to prop his umbrella against the window and slip the small tube of chapstick back into his own pocket. “Glad to be of help.”

* * *

They were back at his apartment now, lounging on the couch after finishing trading sardonic commentary about the movie they’d ended up deciding to watch.

Rukia couldn’t begin to describe how much better she’d felt after getting a chance to talk things out with Ichigo. After finishing their brunch and one more cup of hot chocolate—“Just _one_ more or I’m disowning you,” Ichigo had threatened—they’d talked through a basic game plan. They’d come back to his place, relax for a bit so she could get her nerves in check, and then she’d give Renji a call. As for how best to raise the subject, Ichigo had suggested asking him on a date—less pressure on both of them, and it would make her intentions clear without needing to embarrass him.

Ichigo wore a scowl most of the time and wasn’t the type to openly talk about feelings unprompted, but she found that he was pretty good at understanding them anyway—or at least her own—sometimes better than she did herself, which she couldn’t deny came in handy in times like these when she was feeling jumbled. He’d always been a reliable sounding board whenever she had problems, although admittedly this was her first time asking him about relationships as she and Kaien had had a fairly smooth relationship and were already dating by the time she’d met her now-best friend.

“You calmed down a bit now?” His voice came from the other side of the couch where he was lying, his long legs kicked out across her lap.

She sighed in acceptance. “Guess so.”

“C’mon, Rukia, quit stalling.” He picked up her phone from the table by his head and extended it to her. “You can do this.” At her hesitation, he followed up, “Want me to leave?”

She shook her head, taking the phone from his hand. “No, you can stick around. Should be quick, right?”

Ichigo said nothing but stayed quiet, picking up a book he’d been reading as she scrolled through her contacts and pressed Renji’s name, bringing the phone to her ear.

He answered after a few rings, his voice loud enough for Ichigo to hear. _“Hello?”_

“Hey, Renji,” she got out, looking up to see Ichigo flashing her a one-handed thumbs up. “Do you have a sec to talk?”

The line was silent for a moment. _“Ah, look, if it’s about last night—”_

“It’s not about that,” she said quickly, sensing the tension that had crept into his tone, “Well, it might be sort of related, but I was wondering if I could ask you something else.”

 _“Sure, what’s up?”_ It was odd hearing him sound this cautious with her.

She let out a breath, feeling Ichigo’s foot nudge her thigh. “Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

She could hear the surprise in his voice as he took a moment to answer. _“A date?”_

“Is that a yes?” she asked, hoping to avoid any sort of a deeper conversation about their feelings until they were in person; at first she’d been unsure he would even agree to a date, but Ichigo had told her Renji would “rather cut off and eat his own balls” than turn down a chance to go on a date with her.

 _“...Yeah, sure.”_ She thought she could hear the strange mixture of confusion, incomprehension and relief in his voice, and tried to not to laugh at Ichigo raising a fist in the air in victory without looking up from his book, out of the corner of her eye. “Cool, I’ll text you to figure out a time,” she replied.

_“Sounds good, Ruks.”_

“Talk to you later,” she said before ending the call, dropping her phone onto the cushion as she flopped back against it. “It’s over!”

Ichigo snorted at her from the other side of the couch. “Don’t sound so relieved, that’s the guy you’re dating now.”

“Whatever,” she said, smiling, too appeased to care. “I did it! Things aren’t weird with us anymore!”

“Wasn’t that bad, was it? You just needed a little pep talk. You’re welcome, by the way.” He glanced at her over the top of his book, and she grinned at him. “Thanks, Ichigo.”

“Seriously though—what would you do without me?”

She did smack his calf then, but this time he just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RUKIA!!! So I was sitting on this chapter for the longest time but it wasn’t until her bday rolled up that it inspired me to get off my ass and finish it.
> 
> Apparently I really like the idea of Ichigo in a bomber jacket, since I drew him in one before realizing I’d made him wear one here. I also drew Rukia in her denim jacket and hoodie—both are posted on my Twitter at itspillowtime if you wanna take a look.
> 
> Thanks so much as always for the kind reviews, favs, and follows—you guys rock!
> 
> Love, pillow


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